NOVEL NEXT Chapter 70 : Training [2]
The days bled into one another.
Each one a new circle of hell.
On the first day, Azrael's fists had turned to bloody stumps.
When he woke the next morning, they were bandaged.
The skin underneath was raw, but healed enough to move.
Quill stood over him, his face unreadable.
"Today, you will use your legs."
And so Azrael kicked.
He kicked the massive boulder until his shins were swollen, until every strike rattled his bones.
Every impact felt like his legs were going to split in half.
The day after, Quill said only one word.
"Head."
Azrael slammed his forehead into the rock.
Again and again. Until his skull rang, his vision blurred, and he collapsed into the dirt.
Then came pain training.
For weeks, Quill's fists were his only teacher.
He struck Azrael's arms, his legs, his chest, his back.
No defense. No escape. Only pain.
Every night, Azrael would drop to the floor like a corpse.
And every night, Quill would pour a vial of clear liquid into his mouth.
At first, Azrael thought it was a cheap healing potion.
It never erased the pain. He always woke up sore, his muscles screaming, his bones aching worse than before.
But later, he learned the truth.
It wasn't a potion. It was water from the Lake of Veldoria, in Quill's homeland of Drakoria.
Water that didn't heal it rebuilt.
It seeped into torn muscles, fractured bones, and reforged them.
Every day he was broken.
Every day he was remade.
Fifty days of hell.
On the last day, Azrael stood in the clearing again.
His body was lean and hard now, his skin lined with faint scars.
His posture straight. His eyes sharp.
Quill strapped gauntlets onto his hands.
Simple black bands, dull in the light.
But Azrael knew what they were.
The unbreakable gauntlets.
They had no magic, no fancy powers.
But no blade could cut them.
No spell could harm them.
With these, Quill could catch a sword with his bare hands.
Azrael's chest tightened.
'Overpowered,' he thought.
The blue screen flickered before him.
[◈ STATUS MANIFEST ◈]
[Name: Azrael Ashveil]
[Rank: Apprentice]
[◈ CORE ATTRIBUTES ◈]
[Strength: 18 / 100]
[Agility: 17 / 100]
[Endurance: 18 / 100]
[Intelligence: 13 / 100]
[Aether: 12 / 100]
[Luck: 5 / 100]
[Charisma: 20 / 100]
[◈ AFFINITY ◈]
[Primary Slot: Thread Affinity (Tier: Intermediate)]
Azrael's eyes flicked across the numbers.
'Strength up by seven. Agility up by six. Endurance up by eight and charm is up by 12. All that pain… paid off.'
Quill's voice rumbled low.
"Today we fight. Your goal is simple. Land one clean hit on me. I will not use skills. Only strength."
Azrael nodded.
He drew the sword Quill had given him. A plain blade, perfectly balanced.
The fight began.
Quill moved first.
Fast. A blur of silver and black.
Every punch carried the weight of a mountain.
Azrael didn't meet them head-on.
That would be suicide.
He spread his threads across the clearing.
With Thread Sense, the forest became his web.
He could feel Quill's every step, every shift.
Quill lunged, his fist slicing the air.
Azrael dodged, impossibly close, and slashed his sword.
Clang!
Quill caught the blade in his gauntlet.
The metal rang. The sword was twisted from Azrael's grip and flung aside.
"You are fast," Quill said, cold.
"But still weak."
He charged again.
Azrael spun threads, weaving Cutting Lines between the trees.
Invisible wires hummed sharp in the air.
Quill ran through them.
The wires sliced his clothes, cut shallow lines into his skin.
He didn't even flinch.
Azrael hissed. Hiss. 'Even this won't stop him.'
He braced for the final punch.
He crossed his arms in a desperate block.
Boom.
The impact was brutal.
Pain tore through his body. His arms broke with a sickening crack.
He was launched back, skidding across the dirt.
He lay there, gasping, his chest heavy.
Quill stood over him, silent.
Then turned and walked away.
The training was over.
That night, Azrael lay on the grass, staring at the stars.
Every bone ached. Every breath hurt.
Quill sat beside him.
"You have surpassed my expectations," he said, his voice softer than usual. "I have never seen such resolve. With proper control and the strength I gave you, you will become a monster."
'A monster, huh?' Azrael thought.
He remembered. That demon.
'If I'm a monster… what are they?'
"I never thought I would enjoy this much time with you," Quill added.
Azrael gave a tired, genuine smile.
"Thank you, Master. For getting me closer to my goal."
Quill's lips twitched.
"You can call me brother. Master sounds weird."
He opened his hand.
Ten glowing Aether stones rested on his palm.
Azrael's eyes widened.
'Is he flexing on me again?'
"Master, that's too much," he said. "You've already given me too much."
"I don't need them," Quill replied simply. "They are useless to me."
'Oh right,' Azrael thought. 'He's already at his peak. A Grandmaster.'
"But these cost a fortune," he muttered.
"Take them," Quill said, a rare smile breaking his cold mask. "As a brother. The training has ended. It is my gift."
He pushed the stones into Azrael's hand.
"And get ready. Senior will come tomorrow to take you back."
He stood and left, posture proud.
Azrael watched him go.
But he noticed it Quill's steps weren't as steady as usual.
'He's thinking about her,' Azrael realized.
And he was right.
Quill's thoughts spun.
'She's coming tomorrow! Shit. Is the farmhouse clean? Should I wear the black suit or the gold one? How should I greet her? "Hello, Senior, it's good to see you again." Too stiff. "Celestria, you look beautiful." Too forward! Damn it!'
Azrael shook his head.
'This guy is hopeless.'
He returned to his room.
A blue screen appeared.
[!! MAIN QUEST COMPLETE !!]
[Objective: Survive the brutal training]
[Status: SUCCESS]
[Reward: 100,000 P]
A wave of joy surged through him.
'I'm rich.'
'I'll use these points wisely… after I search through the whole damn system.'
He looked at the ten Aether stones glowing in his hand.
He used them one by one.
The pure energy flooded into him, pushing his core higher.
[Rank Increased: Apprentice → Expert]
A surge of strength filled him. His body trembled with power.
'Finally… real growth.'
Then his mind turned cold.
'Kaelen reached Expert long ago. He's probably already at the peak.'
'Seraphina… Expert too, maybe not peak, but close.'
'And Elvara. Still an Apprentice, but her body is different. Once she controls it, she'll surpass even them.'
He clenched his fists. Clench.
'They're still ahead of me. But not for long.'
Azrael looked out the window at the silent forest.
Tomorrow, he would return.